“You should do it alone,” she said.
“I don’t want to.”
“You should get away from here and find yourself again.”
“I didn’t know I was lost,” he said.
“Well, you are and I’d love you to find yourself with me but I know it’s too soon.”
“For you or me?”
“Probably for both of us,” she said.
He nodded and patted her leg. “I think you’re my best friend.”
“I’m glad,” she said.
Leslie woke up and walked into her sitting room in a drugged haze. Jim was passed out on the sofa with her cat passed out on top of him. She looked at the clock: it was 10:05 p.m. She poured some water into a glass, threw some tablets into her mouth and drank until the glass was empty. As she was passing the counter on her way out of the room she saw the message light blinking. She pressed the button and it was Elle. She sounded sleepy and happy. She sounded at peace. “Hi, Leslie, I know you’re in Florida now and I hope you and Jim are having a good time. He’s a good one. I had a silk dress delivered to your house on Christmas Eve. I hope Deborah took it in for you – it’s beautiful and really feminine so when you wear it I hope you think of me.”
Leslie looked at the box covered with bows that Jim had signed for the previous day but that she hadn’t had the will or strength to open. She smiled at her friend’s kindness.
“I just wanted you to know that I’ve loved being your friend and joining you on your journey. You inspired me because you grabbed on to life and that was right for you. I hope you don’t hate me for letting go because that’s what is right for me.”
Leslie’s smile faded. What was she saying?
“Tell Jane that I love her and I always have, and Kurt too and my mother. Tell them to be happy for me, and please be happy for me too. If I could cut out the part of me that’s rotten I would, but I know that I can’t now and I can’t bear to be here any more. I’ve left notes for Jane, Mum and Kurt buried in the back garden. Jane will know where. Forgive me.”
“Jim!” Leslie screamed.
Jim shot up. “What’s going on?” he asked, sitting up straight and rubbing his eyes like a child.
“Get up, get up, get up!”
He jumped up and followed Leslie into the bedroom.
“What’s going on?” he said, and grabbed Leslie, who seemed to be running around in circles with her nightdress half off and her trousers half on. He held her in place. “Calm down,” he said.
“Elle’s killing herself,” she said.
“What?”
“Elle left a message on the answering-machine, saying goodbye and forgive me.”
Jim ran into the kitchen and checked the time the message was received. “Nine twenty,” he said. “What time is it?” He looked at the clock on the wall. It read 10:20 p.m.
Leslie was dressed and running around looking for shoes.
“Leslie, stop. Call Jane.” He handed her the phone.
Leslie stopped and looked at the phone. “I don’t know her number. It’s in my mobile.” She ran around looking for her mobile and when she found it in her jacket the battery was dead. “Christ!” she roared. “Fucking hell!” She ran around the apartment looking for the charger and found it in the bedroom. She plugged it in and turned on her phone. “Come on, come on, come on,” she said, as the phone was taking its sweet time. Jim stood calmly beside her. The phone came on. She dialled Jane’s number. It rang out. “No, no, no!”
She dialled again.
*
“Hi, Leslie, sorry – the phone was in the bottom of my bag,” Jane said. “Oh, my God, how is Florida?”
“Go down to the cottage now!”
“Have you been drinking?” Jane asked. Tom had his coat on, ready to leave, and she winked at him.
“Jane, Elle left a message on my machine saying goodbye, she couldn’t be here any more. She’s left notes for you in the garden. She asked us to forgive her. Go down to the –”
Leslie didn’t get to finish her sentence. Jane was off and running from the sitting room to the hall and into the kitchen. Dominic and Kurt were eating chocolates and drinking coffee. Jane raced past them and wrenched the door open. She ran down the steps and across the garden, passing her mother’s witch hazels, her roses, the graves of Jimmy, Jessica, Judy and Jeffrey, and reached Elle’s cottage door. She practically ran into it. It was locked so she banged on it, screaming, “Elle! Elle! Elle, it’s Jane! Elle – Elle, please answer the door!”
She was pulling the latch like a madwoman, slapping the door and kicking at it.
Then Tom, Dominic and Kurt were beside her.
“What’s going on?” Dominic asked.
“It’s Elle – she’s killing herself!”
Tom moved her aside and started to kick at the lock. He kicked once, twice, and on the third kick the lock broke and the door swung open. Jane was first in, followed by Tom, Kurt, then Dominic. She ran into the sitting room and then the bedroom, screaming Elle’s name. Elle wasn’t in either room. She ran to the bathroom door and it was locked. “Elle, please – please open the door!”
Tom and Dominic both started to kick the door down. Kurt stood with his hands on his head. The door broke open and Elle was lying in the bath, one hand dangling over the rim, her wrist bleeding. She was conscious and crying but clearly drugged. Jane grabbed her other hand and it wasn’t cut. The dangling wrist didn’t appear to be bleeding enough to kill her but nobody in the room knew how much blood she had lost or which drugs she had taken. Kurt got a clean tea-towel and tied it around her wrist while Tom called an ambulance, Dominic emptied the bath and he and Jane wrapped Elle in towels.
Elle was sobbing. “I was too scared, Janey,” she said. “I was so happy to go but then I thought, What if it’s worse on the other side?”
“It’s okay, I’ve got you now,” Jane said, but she was struggling to keep it together. “What did you take, Elle?”
“Lots of things.”
“Make her stand up, walk her around,” Kurt said, from the doorway.
“Are you sure?” Jane said. “I don’t want to aggravate the wound.”
“Listen to him, he’s doing medicine,” Dominic said.
“Yeah, but to be fair, Dad, I saw it in Almost Famous.” He shrugged. “Honest to God, though, I think it’s the right thing to do.”
Jane and Dominic lifted Elle out of the bath and walked her into the sitting room. Tom ran outside to guide the ambulance men in from the front. Elle passed out on her second round of the room.
“Elle! Elle! Oh, please, Elle, wake up!”
Rose slept through it all.
Jane went with Elle in the ambulance and Tom drove Dominic and Kurt to the hospital. Elle was unconscious the whole way.
“She’ll be all right,” the ambulance man said. “Just a cry for help.”
Jane nodded numbly.
Tom, Dominic and Kurt travelled in absolute silence except for when Tom rang Leslie to tell her where to meet them.
In the hospital Elle was taken away and Jane returned to stand with the others. “You should all go home,” she said.
“No way, Mum, I’m staying,” Kurt said.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Dominic said.
“Me neither,” said Tom.
“She’s going to be fine,” Jane said. “Honestly, you should go home.”
Leslie appeared through the door, sniffling and coughing, shaking and looking as if she needed a bed herself. Jim was behind her carrying the hot-water bottle he’d made her hold in the car.
“Where is she?” she said.
Jane burst into tears. “If you hadn’t been at home!”
“Not worth thinking about,” Leslie said, hugging her. “I was – that’s all that matters.”
They sat waiting for word of Elle’s condition. Within forty minutes a doctor came out to tell them that she was bandaged, there was no damage to her artery and her stomach had been pumped. He said he wou
ld talk to Jane in the morning about what would happen. She thanked him and Kurt hugged her.
It was after midnight when they all made their way out of the hospital. Tom insisted on driving Dominic, Jane and Kurt home.
When Dominic got out of the car he leaned in at the window. “If this has anything to do with me, Janey …”
“It has nothing to do with you, Dominic.”
“Okay, good. I’m glad she’s going to be okay,” he said, and walked up his driveway.
When Kurt got out of the car, Jane told him she’d follow him in a minute. When they were alone she thanked Tom for everything and kissed him. When she pulled away she smiled at him. “I really do think you should go away,” she said. “Have adventures for both of us.” She got out and he watched her drag herself up the steps to her house.
He made it home half an hour later. He walked up his stairs and fell asleep as soon as he hit the pillow and didn’t wake up until his doorbell rang the next morning. He answered it in his robe. His liaison officer was standing outside, clapping her hands together in an attempt to beat the cold out of them.
“Trish?”
Trish nodded, her face saying it all.
“Where?” he said.
“In the Dublin mountains.”
“When?”
“Christmas Eve. A man was walking his dog.”
“And you’re sure?”
“The dental records match,” she said, and she handed Tom the necklace that Alexandra always wore, the one he had given her for their first wedding anniversary. It was engraved, Alexandra, I love you. Tom.
“How did she …?” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.
“We won’t know for a while yet,” she said gently.
“Who could have done that to her?” he asked.
“Tom, I promise we’ll do everything to find the person or persons responsible.”
“And if you don’t?” he said quietly.
“You bury her, you let her go and you move on,” she said sadly.
“It’s over.”
“It’s over.”
“Oh, God,” he cried. “Oh, my God, my poor, poor love!”
Trish knelt in his hall and took his hand. “She’s safe now,” she said.
Chapter 17
Apes & Angels
The heart runs on hope, my friend,
let hope be your horse,
open the tattered maps once more
and let’s set a course,
gonna fight, gonna fight,
gonna fight just to love again.
Jack L, Broken Songs
January 2009
When she was stabilized Elle was moved from Accident and Emergency in Vincent’s Hospital to St Patrick’s Psychiatric Hospital, where she remained as a voluntary patient for three weeks. It was difficult accepting her illness but a diagnosis was also a long time coming. The doctors were kind and reassuring, and for the first time in a long time she felt safe. She would be on medication for the rest of her life and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. In fact, Elle wasn’t sure how she felt about anything. The doctor explained that it might take time to get the drug cocktail right but he promised they’d get there in the end.
Elle was scared that she wouldn’t be able to paint because she believed absolutely that it was her demons that drove her, inspired her and elevated her to a place far from the humdrum of normality and numbness. She was told that her talent wouldn’t be affected, but she seriously doubted that and she knew if it was affected in even the slightest way she would sacrifice her new-found peace. But for now she was okay. She’d talk and she’d listen and she’d take their advice on coping skills, stress management and goal-setting, which she did anyway in the form of writing to the Universe, and she’d swallow what she was given even if it made her feel numb because for now numb was good.
Rose was beside herself when she woke on the morning of St Stephen’s Day to find Elle had tried to do what her father had succeeded in doing so many years before. She cried and she shook and instantly aged, and Jane found herself hugging her and calling her “Mum”.
“Don’t cry, Mum.”
“I thought she’d be okay.”
“I know. Me too.”
“But I should have known better.”
“All we can do is our best, Mum.”
“But I didn’t do my best, Janey,” she cried. “I’m so sorry I’ve made such a mess.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay!” her mother shouted. “I shouldn’t have let this go on for years! I shouldn’t have made you responsible for her, and I shouldn’t have told you not to involve doctors because it didn’t focking work ! She could have died, Janey. My fault – again my fault!” Rose was trembling and beating her chest.
Jane wasn’t sure if she was cold, in shock, or suffering from DTs. “Dad wasn’t your fault, Mum.”
“Of course it was. I left him alone and I knew he was in despair, I left him alone because he was in despair, and I left him alone because I was focking sick of it!” Rose was rubbing her hands in an attempt to stop the violent shaking.
Jane had no clue what to say or do as she had never witnessed her mother in such distress – neither had she ever thought her capable of it.
“When your father died I was angry and sad and bitter and in such pain, and I left you two girls to fend for yourselves. I know I did and I’m not proud of it but you, Janey, you took over. You took care of me and your sister and you did a good job. You’re the strong one, Jane, you’ve always been the strong one – that’s why I pushed you so hard. We need you. We always have.”
“I thought you were disappointed in me.”
“I’m disappointed in myself – you just remind me of it, that’s all,” Rose said. “I am sorry, Janey, I am sorry.”
She was sniffling and Jane felt such an overwhelming warmth for her mother it was unnerving. “Let’s just be kinder to each other,” she said, and Rose nodded.
Jane held her mother tightly, and when Rose composed herself Jane took a tissue out of her pocket and dried her mother’s eyes.
“I hope you hadn’t snotted in that,” Rose said, and their tender moment was over.
Elle didn’t have any visitors during her first week in St Patrick’s but after that Jane and Rose came most days. At visiting time she’d sit in the glass annexe that overlooked a lush garden, and her visitors would join her there. On Rose and Jane’s first visit together, Rose was not behaving like herself, much to Elle’s confusion.
“This is lovely – isn’t it lovely, Jane?” Rose said.
“It’s lovely, Rose.”
“You look fantastic, really beautiful,” Rose said to Elle.
“I look terrible,” Elle said, and looked at Jane for a hint as to what was going on in her mother’s head.
“No, you’re lovely,” Rose said. “Isn’t she, Jane?”
“No, she’s right, she looks terrible,” Jane said.
“What’s going on?” Elle asked Jane.
“Rose is scared that if we’re not nice to you, you’ll try to kill yourself again,” Jane said, and she wasn’t laughing.
Jane was angry, and Elle knew it. Rose blushed the way her elder daughter did on most days but not that day.
“You’re angry, Jane. I understand,” Elle said.
“You understand?” Jane said, pointing at Elle. “Oh, good, because I understand too! I understand that you were desperate and scared and out of your mind – trust me, after two years’ dealing with a colicky baby I do understand – but what I don’t understand is you lying to me. I came to you, I asked you if you needed help and told you I’d be there to help you, and you lied and lied and lied. You made me doubt myself and if you’d died you would have made me complicit in it.”
“I didn’t mean to – I didn’t want to – but everything was so muddled and unreal and I wanted to be okay. I wanted to be kooky, arty Elmore, the genius painter. I wanted it to be okay to suffer for your
art and then it wasn’t okay – then the world tipped sideways and I felt like I was barely clinging on. I got tired and all I could focus on was letting go.”
Rose was silent and pale.
Jane shook her head. “If you ever try to kill yourself again I’ll follow you into the next world and I’ll kill you there too.” Jane’s tears fell and she allowed Elle to bear witness to her pain and her broken heart.
“I’m so sorry, Janey.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t do it again.”
Rose took Elle’s hand in hers and for the first time Elle noticed her mother was trembling. “We love you, Miss Elmore, whether you’re kooky or crazy or a little bit of both, whether you’re an artist or a dinner lady we love you – but Janey’s right. If you ever put us through that again, hell will be a holiday.”
Elle smiled. “Okay, Mum.”
“Right,” Rose said. “Now, Jane, let’s get out of this focking kip before I see someone else I know.”
Kurt and Irene called once a week.
“How’s medicine going?” Elle asked one day, while they ate beef sandwiches that Jane had sent in a picnic basket; it also contained three types of salad dressing and four types of salad, a large bag of lettuce and three cupcakes.
“Good,” he said. “It’s hard, though.”
“Too hard,” Irene said. “I never see him.”
“You’re seeing me now,” he protested.
“And look where we are! No offence, Elle.”
“None taken,” Elle said.
“The last time we went out was well before Christmas,” Irene complained to Elle. “We’re in college, for God’s sake, and we went out more when we were in school.”
“My exams were after Christmas, I’m just finished them, and I told you we can go anywhere you like tonight,” Kurt said, clearly annoyed at having to repeat himself.
“Yeah, well, I’m not in the mood tonight.”
Kurt raised his hands to heaven. “You see?” he said to Elle.
“Nobody goes out in January, Kurt,” Irene said.
Elle decided to change the subject. “So how’s nursing, Irene?”
“Hate it,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m thinking about leaving and doing modelling.”
The One I Love Page 28